I’ve spent all this weekend in bed having me time - because I’m smothered with a fecking flu (negative for the covid thank God as I’m due a baby next week by section) and my husband has taken on the lion’s share of parenting because I physically wasn’t able. Worse than feeling so ill at this stage of my pregnancy is the guilt of not spending time with my little boy when this time next week he will likely have a sibling he didn’t ask for and will hate me! I can’t understand how she enjoys being away from her gorgeous children. I dragged myself out of bed today to have his lunch made and colour some pictures with him even though I had to go and lie down again after an hour. She doesn’t deserve to be called a mother.